


Love is Aftercare

by Khalid



Series: Spiced Peaches publication [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mind Rape, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 18:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18429365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalid/pseuds/Khalid
Summary: When the mirror Spock shoved McCoy into the arms of his real crew, he didn’t think, nor really care, about the after effects of a mind-rape. Spock is left dealing with the fallout.





	Love is Aftercare

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my e-zine stories. I’m not writing them anymore but I always welcome comments.
> 
> I tagged aftercare for the past rape although I’m not sure if that’s the right word.

Spock recognized all the signs. He’d had to deal with the trauma aftercare in more victims of forced mind meld than he’d ever wanted to. One was bad enough but… this was McCoy. Leonard, his best friend and keeper of his soul. He didn’t want to be involved in the effects of a mind rape on anyone he cared about but this had hit so close to home it made him sick. 

Nothing short of every bit of self control he could muster kept him from leaping across the transporter bay and thoroughly eviscerating the man who had done this to his best friend. His lover. But revenge wouldn’t help Leonard right now. He hurried the shaken man back to his quarters. Leonard’s slight frame offered no resistance on the way but he put up a sudden struggle at the door frame.

“No, Spock! Please, God not again!” The trembling doctor moaned piteously. Spock attempted to soothe the crazed man but knew it would take more than just words. Still, he could not rush Leonard. He must reinstate the man's sense of personal control over not only physical faculty but mental as well. The security escorts hurried away under Spock’s steely glare and, assured some momentary privacy, Spock released Leonard who rather than running, simply slumped on the wall opposite his door. This was something to work with at least.

Spock knelt down in front of McCoy. He held out his hands, palms up and close enough McCoy could see them but would have to reach slightly for them. The decision rested with him.  
“Leonard. I am not your enemy. You are in control. Please, come with me. Let me help you,” Spock spoke words of soothing encouragement, all the while remaining motionless, his voice nudged McCoy into the present, his body remained open, an invitation.

At last, fear filling his eyes, McCoy looked up into Spock’s face. “Is it over?” He whispered.  
“The enemy has been defeated, Leonard. But it’s not over for you.”  
McCoy stared into Spock’s eyes, searching for more answers. Finally, Spock moved one of his hands, pausing when McCoy flinched away. Slowly he brought it up to his own head and tapped his temple twice. “The war wages on, my friend, for you. Let me help you.” Once again he held out his hand, urging McCoy to take it. To willingly consent.

Leonard hesitated briefly again. This Spock in front of him was his old Spock. This was no mirror Spock. He feared hurting his friend but knew he would shrink away, flinch, cringe in anticipation of an attack that would never come, could he do that to Spock? He stood and made a slight motion toward his door. Spock dropped his hands, the disappointment he felt flickering on his face so briefly that anyone else would not have noticed, but McCoy noticed, always noticed the slight appearance of mood in his best friend’s face.

Spock turned aside to let him pass and was surprised to find McCoy gesturing him into the room. Spock walked in and sat down on the edge of the couch. McCoy took his time dithering at the replicator for tea and took a seat opposite Spock some distance away. He stirred his tea, sipped it, fiddled with the spoon, tugged at his shirt cuffs. All the while, Spock sat as unobtrusively as he could, sipping his tea gently and looking either at the table or out the window. Letting his friend come to the words in his own time. 

“I’m broken, Spock, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re not Him. It’s going to take some time to get used to everything. I hope you can be patient with me.” The words finally spilled out of the doctor, tripping over themselves in their urgency. Spock sat a moment, allowing any last thoughts to slip out before answering.

“Leonard, you are my best friend and my lover. I have waited my entire life for you and can wait as long as it takes for you to be comfortable with me again. However, I will not sit idly by while the damage He did to your beautiful mind goes on causing you harm. An infection, no matter the cause, must be removed to allow healing. I will remove them infection, doctor, but I await your consent.” He appealed to McCoy’s medical nature, knowing the man could identify past the pain. He could be patient with trauma, but he would not force himself on the man.

McCoy looked at his cup, pondering further. Sighing, he put it down and stood up. He stepped across the room to Spock. Holding out one hand, he said quietly, “Let’s do this thing. Where do we start?” Spock placed his hand in the smaller man’s, pulling him down gently to the seat beside him. “A mind meld is the only way to remove the affliction, Leonard, but this is a long and slow process. I must proceed with caution to repair the damage and avoid any further. I must urge you to react accordingly and not stifle any urges, whatever they may be.”

McCoy nodded, he had only ever felt comfortable being his true self with Spock. The Vulcan’s touch was warm and familiar but he immediately pulled away in shock and fear, pain written on his face. Spock waited, allowing his fingers to transfer nothing but warmth and comfort. When McCoy relaxed, he whispered the meld mantra, “my mind to your mind, our thoughts are one.”

McCoy’s mind was torn and ragged. Forced melds had ripped his friend’s psyche repeatedly. Spock internalized his anger and revulsion against the monster who had done this, focusing instead on coaxing Leonard’s self awareness out of each tender tear and empowering the torn mind to heal. 

Down through layers of self, buried past history, love and secrets to inner self, Spock gently probed. Slowly, coaxing and teasing the broken man’s mind into self awareness, he traversed McCoy’s inner sanctum. Until at last he reached the core of McCoy’s being. Here, his goal had lain from the outset. McCoy would hold onto the deepest, most private core of the pain like an oyster nursing a bit of sand. 

Spock gently nudged the protective shielding to this inner core. It was firm and resolute like a shell but had thin spots. Gently like washing away layer after layer of caked on grime he wore away at the damage and pain. Finally, there was the grain of irritation. It would do no good to simply destroy it, the infection had to be dissolved completely to avoid lasting damage. There festering at McCoy’s core, was Spock. Not mirror Spock or some strange interpretation, but he himself. Each motion he made was copied by the Spock at the core of McCoy’s being.

Shocked to his core, Spock did not know how to proceed. Mirror spock did not cause this damage to McCoy then, he had done it himself. But when, how, and why did he cause his lover the pain he was trying to heal? What could he have possibly done to be the root of Leonard’s agony? Only probing into the core of the affliction would answer the question satisfactorily. He reached out the only way he knew to interact with the spock there who would mimic him. It was strange to mind meld with someone inside a mind meld but this was himself so it was easier than it would have been.

Touching his own mind, he was able to easily delve deep into his own psyche. This was not mind meld, it was introspection. And he needed to perform this action thoroughly but quickly so as to return to the healing process. As he went deeper into his own mind, he discovered the small intimacies between himself and McCoy. Finally, as he delved into his own inner sanctum, he discovered there at the core, placed in a high pedestal, his lover and friend. 

“Leonard!” He shouted up at the man, ”how did you get way up there?”  
“You put me here, Spock” the tiny reply came. Spock began tearing down the pedestal. As it came crumbling down, he caught the doctor in his arms.  
“I never thought I’d live to see the day, Spock” came the doctors immediate sardonic response to being carried like a bride.  
“What day is that, Leonard?”  
“The day when you stop treating me like a delicate creature far beyond your reach and come to me like an equal.”  
Spock had no response, standing there stunned, holding Leonard still in his arms. Finally he whispered, “What would you have me do, Leonard?”  
“Just love me Spock.”  
Spock closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Leonard’s. His mind slowly drifted back up through the galleys of McCoy’s mind and to consciousness where he found himself leaning his forehead against McCoy’s.

He leaned back slightly, pulling away just to look into McCoy’s eyes. The doctor was still groggy from the meld but seemed eager rather than reluctant, urging Spock with his eyes. Still staring into McCoy’s eyes, gauging them for the slightest hesitation, Spock removed his hands from Leonard’s face and slid them down to the doctors own trembling hands. 

He gently placed Leonard’s hands on the front of his shirt, holding them for a moment while he leaned in and gently, slowly kissed McCoy’s lips. His lover gasped faintly and pressed in urgently. Spock allowed Leonard to take the lead, placing a hand here, removing a garment there until they were at the bed, Leonard straddling Spock and kissing him urgently. Spock responded, never pushing in urgency but not resisting any moment of direction until Leonard began stroking his cock, attempting arousal. 

“Spock,” he whispered urgently, “I want you inside me!”

Spock carefully modulated his face to resist his eyebrows crawling up into his hairline in surprise. In all their years of being together McCoy had never asked this of him. He wanted to comply with each of Leonard’s wishes, but at the risk of pushing the man away in his hesitance, he had to be sure. 

“Leonard,” he whispered, “where is this coming from?”  
Leonard leaned back slightly, staring intently into Spock’s face. “I’ve always wanted this, Spock. It was alway you who had those damnable walls.”  
He returned kissing the surprisingly malleable Vulcan and brought their bodies together again. This time, Spock responded. Only through the closest mind meld could he know this was deep in Leonard’s core, not simply a reaction to abuse. 

Gently nudging at the back of his own mind was a memory of his mirror self inflicting this close intimacy on Leonard, but Spock was able to compartmentalize. Leonard may use his body in healing and if this opened another level to their intimacy, he would be willing to play his part. 

After a night of ferocious lovemaking, Leonard always in the lead, Spock gently touched the drowsy, but willing, Leonard’s mind. The healing had begun in earnest. He would need to check back in often to ensure the healing proceeded on schedule but Leonard had made a great deal of progress. 

And Spock was willing to admit to himself in the privacy they shared, that he also felt as though he had made some progress. Snuggling his face into the crook of Leonard’s chin, he laced his fingers into Leonard’s. “Welcome back, my love.”


End file.
